31/08/2026
Sometimes adding your voice can make a difference. 😊🙏
MS is a chronic, progressive, lifelong disease that can significantly affect quality of life, and currently has no cure.
When I first set out to climb mountains, there was absolutely a personal dream involved. But I also recognised that climbing a mountain like Everest creates a platform. The visibility it attracts can be used to raise awareness of MS and of the metaphorical mountains so many people climb in life.
I’m incredibly fortunate that MS hasn’t significantly affected me physically, allowing me to do something like climb Everest. But it has affected other areas of my life, sometimes significantly and often invisibly.
So my frustration about the lack of media coverage has never simply been about wanting the world to know that Jen Willis climbed Everest. It’s about the opportunity that Everest, combined with the reach of the media, provides to raise awareness of MS, invisible disability, hope and possibility.
Since sharing this post, I’ve realised that my frustration that this opportunity was missed is shared by a lot of people.
So I have a favour to ask. If you think there’s a story here that deserves to be told, would you leave a comment below saying why?
I’m going to gather the comments together and put them forward to the media and simply say, “Come on, you missed this one. Will you tell it now?”
Perhaps adding all of our voices together can make a difference.
FORGOTTEN AT THE TOP OF THE WORLD.
Shame on you, Herald Sun
In an era when we talk so much about diversity, equity, inclusion and representation, how does a 54-year-old woman living with disability become almost invisible, despite quite literally standing on top of the world?
A couple of days ago, I wrote about why my Everest story seemed to fall through the cracks of Australian media.
With deeper reflection, I’ve realised what hits me hardest isn’t simply that a significant story was missed.
It’s what that represents.
Recent Herald Sun coverage led me to an article published in May:
“Two Melbourne women make history in record-breaking Mt Everest climbs.”
It described a historic week for Australian mountaineering.
Except there weren’t two Melbourne women making history on Everest that week.
There were three.
I was the third.
I summited on 18 May, two days before Bianca and three days before River.
I was another Melbourne woman, on the same mountain, in the same week, standing on the same summit.
At 54. Living with multiple sclerosis, an invisible disability. Becoming the first Australian with MS to summit Everest.
How do you miss that?
Australian research tells us representation gaps around age and disability are real.
The Australian Human Rights Commission has identified the invisibility of older Australians and gendered ageism in media. Earlier research found people 55+ appeared in only 11.5% of editorial media content.
Screen Australia has also documented the underrepresentation of people with disability.
None of that proves why my story was missed.
But look at who disappeared from this one.
The woman in her 50s. The woman living with an invisible disability.
Even in my earlier post, I tiptoed around saying that.
It’s hard to stand up and say: I should have been seen too.
You don’t want to sound bitter or diminish someone else’s achievement. So you soften. You stay quiet.
Today, I’m not.
Bianca’s story deserved to be told. River’s story deserved to be told.
Mine did too.
Three women. Three historic achievements. Three stories that mattered.
Representation isn’t about choosing who deserves the spotlight.
It’s about widening the spotlight.
Women in their 50s need to see themselves doing big things. People with disabilities need to see possibility and achievement, not only limitation.
The stories we see shape what we believe is possible.
So this isn’t another post about wanting more media coverage.
It’s the deeper realisation that I’ve now had a firsthand experience of what it feels like to be unrepresented, in a world that constantly tells us representation matters.
And now I understand, at a very human level, why it matters.
There weren’t two Melbourne women making history on Everest that week.
There were three of us.
And all three stories were worth telling.
